


Submission

by SuggestiveScribe



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bondage, Kinbaku, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shibari, and references to bad music, twenty-seven words that mean "Viktor gets tied up"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9338012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuggestiveScribe/pseuds/SuggestiveScribe
Summary: Viktor leaned forward, breath whispering just behind the shell of Yuuri’s ear, “If my Yuuri wanted me to submit, I would be elated to experience submission.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bibbidibobbididette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibbidibobbididette/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Submission](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10078490) by [Nasturcia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nasturcia/pseuds/Nasturcia)



> For my beloved Pixie, who supports me always. I love you with my whole heart, I hope you enjoy this filth borne from it.

 

 

They were sitting on the couch when Viktor made the offhand comment, “I’d like to try that.”

Yuuri’s eyes shot up to him, wide behind the lenses of his glasses, “Wh-what? Try what?”

Viktor leaned heavily against his shoulder, leveling a pointed finger at the laptop laying across Yuuri’s thighs. “That,” he said. He was indicating an ad on the edge of Yuuri’s screen. It was a pornographic ad, one of those which Yuuri had hastily assured him in weeks past that “is always on the side of this gaming website and not at all indicative of my previous browsing history I swear please believe me oh God”. 

This one featured a woman-- of the 2D variety-- tied in intricate knots of red rope and left to hang erotically next to Square Enix sales numbers. 

“It’d be fun,” Viktor punctuated with a broad smile. 

Yuuri was staring at him. Viktor didn’t respond, only continued smiling. There was a weighty pause, and then Yuuri finally responded with, “This?”

“Yes,” Viktor answered simply. 

“Kinbaku?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what it’s called,” Yuuri said, hastily throwing his gaze back toward the screen. He scrolled down and flung the bound woman off his screen. She was replaced by a sultry cosplay model. “They might say ‘shibari’ over here,” he was mumbling. “I think that word is more popular…”

“Oh,” Viktor responded cheerily, still watching the side of his face. 

There was a long moment in which Yuuri pretended to read the article in front of him. Viktor continued smiling. Yuuri’s eyes weren’t moving or adjusting, and his finger was hovering strangely over the scrollbar.

He turned to Viktor while inhaling a large breath, “When you say ‘ _ try _ ’--”

_ Ah. _

Yuuri turned his body to face Viktor more fully on the couch, “-- do you mean…” 

Viktor slowly tapped his finger against his leg as Yuuri’s hands fluttered in the air. 

“You or… me or…” Yuuri clasped both sides of his face in his hands before closing his eyes. 

Viktor leaned forward, breath whispering just behind the shell of Yuuri’s ear, “If my Yuuri wanted me to submit, I would be elated to experience submission.” 

Yuuri’s body went very still. A few quiet heartbeats passed between them. Suddenly Yuuri slammed his laptop shut, sprung into a standing position, and quickly exited the room. 

Viktor sat there, still leaning forward from having whispered dirty secrets into Yuuri’s ear, and blinked. 

He clasped his hands together in his lap, and eventually took a long sip of tea. For better or worse, this strange behavior wasn’t strange behavior for Katsuki Yuuri. Viktor swallowed the sweet lemon of his tea, thinking little of it. 

That night before bed, Yuuri ravished Viktor with soft lips and gentle caresses. He rocked into him, careful, doting, devout, and swallowed up Viktor’s noises with long kisses. Viktor wrapped himself around Yuuri, all bliss, and forgot. 

\----

Yuuri flittered around the next few days in that way he does. This usually occurs when something is on his mind, or he’s keeping secrets. Viktor tends to give it a few days before pressing too hard; Yuuri always has something on his mind. 

This time the conversation wasn’t prompted by Viktor. Instead the catalyst was the heavy knock on Viktor’s door, and the package Yuuri retrieved from the hallway. 

“Viktor.” 

Viktor raised his eyebrows without saying anything. The box wasn’t very large, but Yuuri was holding it with both hands, fingers flexing around it nervously. 

“Tonight…” Yuuri’s gaze slid off to the side. “Could we make time… after practice…”

Viktor tipped his head to the side, “Of course!”

Yuuri left practice early that night, without a word. Upon realizing that he’d left, Georgi made a comment about being young. Yurio responded with a jab about being old. Mila simply asked where Viktor’s fiance had run off to. 

Viktor wasn’t sure. He responded with a wink. 

When Viktor returned home, Yuuri was waiting for him. He was in nice slacks and a button-down, shirt tucked under the cinch of a leather belt, and soft tendrils of red rope dripping from his fingers. Viktor paused in taking off his shoes. 

Yuuri lifted his hands slightly, “I thought we’d… try.”

Viktor’s mouth went dry. 

There were already knots in some of the ropes. They looked to be cotton in the way they looped and hung from Yuuri’s fingers. The red of them burned against Yuuri’s skin, a bright flare of color in contrast to his dark shirt and khaki pants. 

“Did you know Japanese Amazon won’t ship here?” Yuuri rambled. One of his thumbs was rubbing unconsciously over the cotton. “I had to get Georgi’s help to order them…”

Viktor finally blinked himself back into focus. “I can’t imagine how that conversation would have went,” he tried tentatively, finally slipping out of his other shoe. 

“Better than it would have with Mila or Yurio,” Yuuri answered, swallowing hard. “He just uh… just said something about the inherent submission of being in love, or… I don’t know…” 

“Sounds right,” Viktor said, traversing the living room to close the distance between them. Yuuri was standing just in front of the doorway to their bedroom, toes curling nervously against the floor. It was then that Viktor noticed the puddle of blankets at Yuuri’s feet. Viktor gave them a side glance before catching sight of the hook anchored to the top of the doorframe. It was non-threatening enough; it might even pass for a heavy duty clothing hook to those unaware. But paired with the ropes laid across Yuuri’s palms it gained semblance and meaning. Viktor found himself pausing and swallowing again. He finally diverted his attention at Yuuri’s words: 

“So… want to try?” 

Viktor turned toward Yuuri. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes were hyper-focused on Viktor’s face. Viktor could only breathe, “ _ Yes _ .” 

“Okay,” and Yuuri was already padding away, not allowing Viktor even a glimpse of his reaction. “I laid out a futon under the doorway so you wouldn’t hurt your knees too badly,” he said, grabbing something from their bedside table. His voice was entirely casual, nonchalant. When he was back to standing beside Viktor, he looked the small distance up at him with a blank expression, “Please take off your clothes.” 

Viktor’s fingers fluttered by his side. Slowly he lifted his hand to pull down the zipper of his jacket. 

“You’ll need a safe word,” Yuuri informed him. 

Viktor cleared his throat. He smiled, but his next words came out slightly uneven, “Oh? Right. Well I wonder what would be best…” Viktor had intended it to sound flirtatious, but his voice came off as nervous to his own ears. 

He prayed Yuuri didn’t notice. 

“Oh,” Yuuri said, lightly thumping his fist against his opposite palm. “I got one.”

Viktor raised his eyebrows as he shed his jacket onto the floor, “What is it?”

Yuuri looked at him in complete seriousness. “‘King JJ’,” he said. 

Viktor stopped moving. 

“That’s your safeword,” Yuuri decided, walking off again. “Remember it.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor responded in an equally serious tone. “I  _ never  _ want to say those two words together, let alone during sex.” 

Yuuri threw a pointed glance over his shoulder, pausing in his movements, “That’s the point, Viktor.”

Viktor pursed his lips and went back to undressing, hooking his hands under the hem of his shirt. 

“I tied some of the pattern already,” Yuuri informed him, “so it will take less time.” Viktor dropped his shirt on the floor and began to unbutton his pants. “You’re going to be bent over,” Yuuri continued. “Your knees will be on the ground, but your upper half will be hanging from the doorway.”

Viktor pushed his pants off his hips. He was excessively aware of the chill of the room, and of how much clothing Yuuri was still wearing. “So it will be like…” Viktor cocked his head to the side in thought, “Like I’m on my hands and knees, except…”

“Except your hands will be tied behind your back,” Yuuri confirmed with a single nod. “Your upper half will be levitating.” He cleared his throat, “Seemingly.”

“Okay,” Viktor almost sing-songed. The more Yuuri spoke, the quicker Viktor’s heart drummed in his chest. “So Yuuri,” Viktor prodded, smirking at him as he slid his boxers down his legs and allowed them to fall to the floor. “Aren’t you going to get undressed too?” 

Yuuri blinked at him, face and voice flat, “No.” 

Viktor didn’t have a facial response ready for that answer. Yuuri shooed him backward with his hands, coaxing Viktor to step onto the futon without touching him. Yuuri reached up and pulled his glasses from his nose, setting them aside. When he looked at Viktor it was with a cold and unwavering set of eyes, “Are you ready?”

Viktor nodded. 

Yuuri began tying the cotton ropes around him immediately. He started with Viktor’s arms, binding them together at Viktor’s back. All of his touches were feather-light and glancing, pulling chills from Viktor’s core and tickling up his spine. The cold of the room settled over his shoulders, and gooseflesh prickled across his arms and thighs. 

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Viktor tried. 

Yuuri walked around Viktor’s body and began working on his chest. “I did a lot of research beforehand,” Yuuri told him without cessation. He pulled a knot tight and Viktor felt the cotton fit itself snugly to his chest. 

Viktor watched him. His sometimes timid and shy Yuuri was gone. The person that stood before him was the one Viktor sometimes saw on the ice, or watching his peers. This Yuuri was the one who had hard eyes and a firmly set line for a mouth. He was cold and calculating. 

It made Viktor crave his touch and affection even more. 

When his knuckles brushed over Viktor’s skin it was uncaring. There were no caresses, no assuring touches. Even when Viktor tried and failed to repress a shiver, Yuuri’s face was unchanging. No coy pride or amusement. Just short motions punctuated with the sound of knots being snapped tight. 

“On your knees,” Yuuri directed. 

Viktor sank down without hesitation. It was strange to be so passive. He didn't have to think, or act on his own, or improvise. He could let his mind go blank and allow Yuuri full control.

Full control…

Viktor settled his knees in the futon. He was grateful for it; the hardwood floor would have been much less forgiving. 

"Are you going to gag me too?" Viktor asked. He wasn't sure what he was going for with his voice-- humor, arousal, playfulness-- all he knew was that it came out fluttering, stripped of airs and made bare for Yuuri's ears. Viktor could have cringed. 

"I thought about it," Yuuri answered without a hint of interest in his voice. His hands were still moving, the slide of cotton into knots a mechanical motion for him. "I considered gagging you in case that confidence of yours started to encroach on my dominance."

Viktor's length had already started to thicken and grow weighty, but those words flushed it harder. The blood flow spiked between Viktor’s legs. As much as he wanted to say ' _ Oh _ ' or coo another appropriate response, he was worried his voice would give him away again. 

"But then I thought," Yuuri went on, fingers lightly sliding over Viktor's chest as he started a new knot, "if I were to make you silent and submissive with my own charms rather than with aid, it would be much more rewarding."

Viktor stared at his face. Yuuri was still watching the quick looping and tying motions of his own hands, paying no mind to Viktor's expression. For some reason he wanted Yuuri to look at him. He wanted Yuuri's gaze directly anchored to his own. He leaned forward, just a touch, and whispered, " _ But can you? _ " 

It worked. Yuuri lifted his eyes to Viktor's face. They were beautiful and brown like always, but they were also serene in how steady and unflinching they were. "I will," he answered. He went back to his ties. 

Viktor's lips silently parted. 

The ropes across Viktor's chest were gaining shape and pattern. It was like a spider's web or simple kaleidoscope; the geometric design started at the center of his chest and expanded outward, red polygons fracturing into shapes that grew smaller and smaller the farther they ventured from the center. 

The measured act of tying was torture to Viktor’s nerves. Every knot cut off a little more movement, held him a little more tightly. Even the sound of it grazed against his skin, fizzling sensation down his neck and spine where he remained untouched. Yuuri was putting all his conscious thought and effort into Viktor’s body, Viktor’s comfort,  _ Vikor _ , and it made heat wash over his shoulders and across his cheeks. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected the act of being tied to evoke such strong mental and physical reactions. 

The waiting wound Viktor into a knot of tight anticipation. 

"It's pretty," Viktor commented, an attempt to steady his thoughts. 

Yuuri blinked, "Japan has always appreciated aesthetics." He cinched a knot tight on Viktor's lower abs, then pulled the fabric into the seam where thigh met groin. Viktor tilted his head to the side, hoping Yuuri didn't catch the flinch of reaction on his face. Viktor had to work to keep the small hitch of his breath in his chest as the cotton slid around him, dragging friction against an untouched place. "Aesthetics and functionality," Yuuri finished, his voice detached as all his attention concentrated on the movement of the ropes. 

"Pretty and effective?" Viktor posed rhetorically. "Sounds like perfection." Yuuri was now looping the fabric taut around his thigh. He reattached it to the center pattern and repeated the process on Viktor's other leg. He was somehow keeping all the ropes tight but not suffocating; everything was a tailored fit to Viktor's body. 

Yuuri connected some rope between Viktor’s legs, and it wasn't until he had completed his motions that Viktor realized what he'd been doing. 

He'd created a taut perimeter of rope around Viktor’s cock and balls, a diamond of red rope forcing passive pressure and sensation to a place already sensitive from overzealous blood flow. 

Viktor took a small stuttering inhale. 

"I'm going to connect the two sides in the back," Yuuri informed him. "Tell me if it's too tight on your shoulders; it's not supposed to hurt."

Viktor's bangs fell in front of his eyes as he tracked Yuuri's movements behind him, "Okay."

The binds on Viktor’s chest and abs grew tighter, the fabric a firm press against his skin. His shoulder blades were forced a bit closer, but Viktor had no complaints. There was a moment of silence as Yuuri bent over to grab a new piece of rope. 

Viktor heard fabric looping, but he couldn't actually feel any of it against him. "Almost done?" he asked. 

"Almost done," Yuuri confirmed. A cord of cotton slipped around Viktor’s ankles before being pulled tight, forcing them together. 

"Oh," Viktor said. 

"Face down," Yuuri said, syllables clipped short. He gave Viktor’s shoulders a small shove. 

Falling forward with arms bound is quite a startling thing. 

Viktor relied on the clench of his abs to ease his face's descent into the pillow. It wasn't until this exact moment-- face in the futon, ass in the air, hands and legs entirely immobile-- that Viktor realized how truly powerless he was. 

If his cock wasn't fully hard before, it was now. 

He let go of a small breathy laugh. "Effective," he said. He stilled instantly, because Yuuri's fingertips were sliding down the back of his thigh. It was almost tickling it was so gentle; it started just below the curve of Viktor's ass and went downward, grazing over the creased flesh of Viktor's knee and trailing over his calf. His fingers seemed to rearticulate at the crest of Viktor's heel, and when Yuuri came back upwards it was with the steady sweep of all four fingers. 

He didn't stop when he reached Viktor's ass, only climbed over the swell of muscle and swirled delicately over the dent of his back dimples. Viktor shivered as gooseflesh erupted across his skin, small hitched breaths thankfully lost in the pillow. 

Shuffling sounded from beside him, and Viktor could only guess that Yuuri had risen from his crouch. Then there was a tug, and without any movement of his own Viktor's upper body was slowly hoisted from the ground. The ruffled futon grew more distant as all his weight was cradled by the splendid red pattern fractured across his chest. When his upper body was parallel to the floor, hips bent at a ninety degree angle, the lifting ceased. There were only sounds, one of them the definitive tug of a knot being yanked tight, and then silence. 

It was strange to be in such a position and yet feel so weightless. The weight of Viktor's entire upper body was supported by this... hammock, this erotic hammock that Yuuri had woven across his chest and anchored to the hook on the door. The only bit of his own weight he bore was in his knees, a generally slight pressure caused by his unsupported hips. 

Yuuri stepped in front of him, and when Viktor lifted his head and shook free the curtain of his bangs, he found round eyes riveted on him. He had to crane his neck to see into Yuuri's face. Those eyes were bright and focused, but there was still no discernable expression for Viktor to read. Yuuri said nothing, only blinked and moved back around Viktor’s body.

Viktor heard the sound of the comforter shifting. Then there was breath against him, hot and humid and gusting right over his skin. 

"I love this red on you," Yuuri spoke, voice low. He pressed a kiss to Viktor's flesh, lips hitting right between cross-sections of rope near his spine. 

Viktor sighed, not sure what else to say. 'Thank you' didn't seem quite large enough given that Yuuri was currently setting his veins on fire. 

With no course for action and no options of his own to consider, Viktor’s thoughts spun in all directions. His mind was a blank slate, sensation slashing violent colors across it. He was here to be, not to do, and what quiet might usually accompany passivity was destroyed by the clamor of sensation when of Yuuri’s mouth lit against his skin.

Yuuri continued, speckling slow and quiet kisses in the middle of each shape. He kissed against the dip of his spine, his shoulders, his forearms, his upturned wrist. Viktor's breath was beginning to come quicker, his cock growing excited from every splash of electricity generated from Yuuri's lips. Then he went down his legs, hitting everywhere from the back of the knee to the ankle, then working back up the thigh. When he reached his ass he gave a few small bites, pinching the thick muscle between his teeth. 

Viktor hummed deep in his throat, a drop of precum slipping from his slit and tickling the surface of his cockhead. 

"You still comfortable?" Yuuri asked, voice unreadable.

"Yes," Viktor breathed. "Just great."

"Good," Yuuri replied before lightly spreading Viktor's cheeks and sliding his tongue over Viktor's rim. 

Air hissed into Viktor’s lungs. He jerked in his binds, the sudden hot sensation flashing bright under his skin. 

Yuuri lapped over it diligently. He used long suffering strokes and short taunting ones. He tickled at the rim with the pointed tip of his tongue, the slight prod enough to make Viktor long for the sensation of a stretch. Then Yuuri thrust the tip of his tongue past Viktor's rim and Viktor  _ groaned _ . It was an animal noise, loud and weak and wanting. 

" _ God _ ," Viktor breathed. "Yuuri, please." 

Yuuri thrust his tongue in again. It was thick and wet, delivering all hot and smooth sensation with minimal resistance. It was a filthy teasing thing, and it made Viktor's cock  _ ache _ . 

If he could have flailed, he would have. If he could have clenched his fist in the comforter and buried a moan into the pillow, he would have. But as it was he was trapped, his face and voice forced into the open. He boiled down his moan into a wheeze, albeit just barely. His arms and legs wanted to squirm but they couldn't. He was single unit of vibration and sound, pleasure resonating against the walls of his apartment. 

" _ Yuuri _ ," Viktor tried again. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. He was tired of not seeing Yuuri. He was tired of the unmoving vista of his apartment and the futon, and of being unable to touch. He wanted his palms all over Yuuri’s skin, his lips kissing every inch of his body. 

"You're easier to undo than I thought," Yuuri commented. He licked over the rim once or twice before sucking at the puckered flesh. 

" _ Jesus _ ," Viktor groaned. The sensation made sparks pop and sizzle in his toes. He felt the suck of Yuuri's mouth up his spine and at the base of his cock, in his feet and through his thighs. He strained against his ropes. His cock was dripping everywhere, clear and messy. Viktor looked at the futon and tried to bend farther forward. The ropes dug into his chest, unmerciful. He just wanted to rut against the comforter, he just wanted something to graze sensation against his cock. 

Viktor was discovering he was less composed than he pretended to be. 

Yuuri delved in again, sinking his tongue in as deep as possible. The malleable hot muscle slipping past his rim made Viktor squirm. He moaned as Yuuri moved the tip of his tongue inside him, hands gripping hard and kneading at Viktor’s asscheeks. 

Viktor was swaying slightly in his binds, bound feet flinching upward and hips desperate to thrust forward even though they found nothing. He could only moan, or hang his head and catch sight of his own cock, flushed red and dripping. 

Yuuri’s hands released Viktor’s hips and he withdrew his tongue. “You’re already so fidgety,” Yuuri said, the movement of his voice a tell that he was rising to his feet. 

Yuuri rounded his body and squatted down in front of him, eyes sliding over every bared part of Viktor. Sweat matted bangs, wet cock, kaleidoscope of red cotton over pale flesh. " _ Utsukushika _ ," he rasped, the foreign syllables tumbling out in one huffed breath. 

Viktor swallowed, eyelashes fluttering. He should know that word-- he  _ did _ know that word, even with his limited knowledge of Japanese-- but the roughness of it paired with the unwillingness of his mind to function properly left him with nothing. 

Before Viktor could ask what he'd said, Yuuri was already rising to stand at full height. 

“You’re very bad at being tied up,” Yuuri told him. 

When Viktor raised his gaze to look Yuuri full on the face he had to pause. Flickering behind those irises, gently and almost imperceptibly tugging at Yuuri’s mouth, was something akin to delight. 

Oh. 

_ Oh _ . 

Viktor thought about being Yuuri’s plaything. About Yuuri selfishly taking, about Yuuri fucking into him like he was a prize. 

A shiver ran from the crown of Viktor’s head all the way to his toes.

He allowed his head to hang, bangs covering his eyes. His cock was pulsing hard between his legs. 

Yuuri bent at the hips, moving aside Viktor’s bangs with his fingers, “What was that?” 

Viktor was staring at the blank white of the futon.  _ I want you to fuck me senseless.  _

He swallowed.  _ I want you to destroy me. _

Viktor’s gaze slid upward, mouth quirking into a wry smile at the corner, “Just wondering if you’ll ever take me,  _ Yuu _ ri.”

Yuuri leaned forward just a bit, expression and voice once again in their reserved even keel. “That’s a good question,” he said. Then he dropped Viktor’s bangs and moved away from him. 

Viktor was especially silent as Yuuri walked away, grabbing something he’d left nearby. When he returned he didn’t say anything, but there was a telltale  _ click _ followed by the wet sounds of lube against skin. Viktor’s heart started dancing in his chest, small fluttery beats of expectation. 

A slim finger slid between Viktor’s cheeks, dragging a slick trail in its wake. 

“Do you want to define ‘take’ for me?” 

Viktor’s eyes had fallen closed under Yuuri’s touch. When his fingertip hit the ring of Viktor’s entrance, his breath hitched.

“I could  _ take _ you into me,” Yuuri said. His finger sunk into Viktor, at least a knuckle deep, and a small whine left Viktor’s throat. His rim was pliable, opening easily to the small intrusion. The sudden shock of sensation almost distracted Viktor from Yuuri’s words. As it was they hit him belatedly; the image of Yuuri sliding onto and reverently riding Viktor’s cock a laggard flash that made Viktor’s throat go tight. 

“I could  _ take _ you out to dinner,” Yuuri added, voice still nonchalant. He sunk deeper, finger pressing forward until it couldn’t press forward anymore. Yuuri moved the finger in tiny motions, drawing a circle with his fingertip inside Viktor and gently applying varying pressure to different portions of Viktor’s rim. 

Viktor shivered. He pushed back against Yuuri’s hand, but there was nothing more for Yuuri to give. 

“I could  _ take _ you right to the edge,” Yuuri said, withdrawing his finger almost fully, “and give you nothing.” When he plunged back in it was with two fingers, sweeping warm and scratching sensation through Viktor’s insides. 

Viktor groaned.  _ There  _ was that bit of stretch, that tingle of almost-pain that was too slick and too delicious to cross into full discomfort. Yuuri withdrew and thrust in one more time, slowly, before twisting his wrist and turning his fingers within Viktor. The rotation lit a spiral of fireworks from Viktor’s feet, spinning and trembling outward on every vein. Viktor shook in his binds, unable to even shudder fully at the sensation. His cock twitched from between its neat cross-stitch. The pressure the ropes added to his balls and his cock grew exponentially; the more blood that surged the more he felt its unwavering presence. 

“How about that?” Yuuri asked as the slow pace of his fingers began to accelerate. 

Viktor huffed. It was meant to be a laugh, but it broke somewhere in his chest. All he could think about was the mounting tension around his rim, the slight grip of it against Yuuri’s fingers with every thrust. Shivers and electricity followed the push-pull, flooding downward when he withdrew, flying upward and spiking hard when he delved back in. 

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s voice over-lilted into a question. He was playing innocent, coy. Fully knowing that Viktor’s head was hanging, hips shaking, hair sticking hotly to his neck. 

_ Please fuck me harder. _

Viktor didn’t have words. He only had the aching desire in his blood and the dripping between his legs, the eager and hungry rim and bright flashes of need. 

_ Please fuck me more _ . 

“Using three fingers is irritating,” Yuuri commented vaguely. “It’s uncomfortable on my hand...” His voice dropped, smoky and thoughtful, “Without adding an extra finger, what could I do…”

Viktor opened his mouth.  _ Touch me _ . 

No, he couldn’t say it. If he said it, he wouldn’t get it. 

_ Please touch my cock. _

“Maybe this…” Yuuri adjusted his hand again, a slight turn, and pressed down ever so slightly.

Viktor barked at the jolt of sensation. It wasn’t even rough, wasn’t even vicious, but the direct press to Viktor’s prostate made him thrash in his binds. He couldn’t move.  _ He couldn’t move _ . 

Yuuri drew his hand back, and when he moved forward again he dragged purposeful pressure over the same spot. 

Viktor wasn’t sure about the sounds he was making. It was a shout torn apart into a growl, or a roar broken into a wail. It was rough and animal and pleading in the same string of notes.  

“That seems to do,” Yuuri decided. 

Viktor was panting, vision blotched with colored spots and bright smears of light. Yuuri was still thrusting inside him, giving him a break from the screaming sensation and replacing it with movement that felt dull in comparison. It was a safe drag of fingers right outside an itch, the slide of a thumb over strings directly adjacent to the one that needed plucked. He was an instrument with one aching cord, one singular note humming a dim resonance that outshone the others. 

Viktor lurched back with his hips to fuck onto Yuuri’s fingers, desperate to hit that spot again. 

“Bad,” Yuuri repeated, “at being tied up.” He flinched his fingers in a quick curl and squeezed against Viktor’s prostate. 

If Viktor hadn’t been tied up he would have dragged his nails across the carpet, bit into the pillow, screamed into the sheets. He would have fucked his fist or the futon or whatever else he could bring close to his cock, and he would have come. Instead he groaned, thick Russian curses hitting against his teeth, binds creaking against his unwieldy weight and movement. 

Barely, just barely, he thought he might have heard a heavy breath leave Yuuri’s lungs. 

Yuuri tilted within Viktor, adjusting his position, and began thrusting into him with perfect glancing strokes to Viktor’s prostate. Viktor couldn’t stop the noises; they tumbled out one after the other, small and panting. The tension in his legs was building fast, rising up to meet that first blaring shock of pleasure and reaching beyond it. 

His stomach was swooping low, the static ring in his ears desaturating the noises around him. He was going to, yes, he knew that throb, knew that ache. His blood was roiling in his thighs, muscles clenching tight in anticipation, and he was just digging his teeth mercilessly into his own lip and ready to moan when Yuuri snatched his fingers from Viktor quick and sudden. 

Viktor gasped, or perhaps it was something more primal, like a hiss. Air rushed past his teeth and filled his lungs. His rim and insides were shocked with the sudden withdrawal. His eyes stung. He gritted his teeth together. And he was, at the upper most precipice, right beneath the tipping point of climax, abandoned. 

Viktor shouted. 

His body was rattling, suddenly empty, suddenly devoid of all touch and sensation. He wanted to tear apart the air with screams. He wanted to rip his flesh off to get rid of the itch prickling outward from his core. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t even  _ touch himself _ , couldn’t writhe with all the aggression he suddenly had, couldn’t flail in proper protest. 

He didn’t even know where Yuuri was or what he was doing. He shuddered, over and over again. The sweat on his brow grew cold. His insides were aching and forsaken. Eventually, his sounds lost some of their anger, drained some of their heat, and began to ebb into exact portrayals of how he felt. 

Small exhales left him, wounded and neglected. 

The tension in his muscles began to sink. He sagged in his binds, body somehow much heavier than before. The air of the room settled between the geometric ropes, branding his naked flesh with cold. 

Yuuri rounded Viktor’s body, looking down on him. He was still clothed, at least from what Viktor could see from behind his bangs and around the downward hang of his head.

“I took you,” Yuuri stated. His voice was impossibly neutral.  

Viktor’s mind was emptying out. Coherent thoughts weren’t easy, but he knew he wanted to feel Yuuri against him. 

Yuuri leaned over, touching his finger to the bottom of Viktor’s chin. Prompted by Yuuri’s hand, Viktor lifted his gaze. 

Warmth bloomed out from Yuuri’s touch. It flushed down Viktor’s neck and across his cheekbones. When his gaze connected with Yuuri’s, his blood purred hot beneath his skin again. It was so instant and effortless; all Yuuri did was exist. 

A sliver of something beyond the role Yuuri was playing flickered behind his irises. It was unidentifiable for the split second it was there, and the moment Yuuri got a good look at Viktor’s face he pulled his hand away. Viktor didn’t change the position of his head. He watched Yuuri’s movements, watched his hands as they landed on the clasp of his belt. 

Viktor’s eyelashes fluttered. 

Yuuri undid the belt and pinched open the button beneath it. He dragged down the zipper, the sound of it lilting higher as it was forced over the tight bulge testing the fabric. Viktor’s mouth parted when he saw the mess of Yuuri’s boxers. They weren’t just blotched dark at his cockhead, they were shining. Precum wetted the fabric and shone through, a tell that even Yuuri’s calm demeanor couldn’t hide. 

A thrill ruptured from Viktor’s chest and made his cock twitch. 

Yuuri loosed his cock, allowing it to bob forward, flushed and shining. He took a few steps forward and grabbed hold of the back of Viktor's binds. Viktor was staring right above Yuuri’s knees, eyes too close to look at anything else. Yuuri pulled the binds upward, lifting Viktor until his face was just above the height of Yuuri’s cock. 

Viktor shifted in place, rebalancing his weight.  Like this he could allow most of his weight to sit on his knees and Yuuri wouldn't need to support him. He looked up at Yuuri, who was staring down at him. He ran his hand over Viktor’s cheek and Viktor pressed his face into it, inhaling the scent and memorizing the warmth of it. Yuuri’s fingers continued upward to slide into Viktor’s hair, a consoling stroke that ended with a firm grip at the back of his skull. 

Yuuri blinked down at him, “Well?”

Viktor lurched forward greedily. He was desperate to feel Yuuri's heat and salt against his tongue, to make his breaths come labored and strained. Yuuri bit an inhale short the moment Viktor's lips parted around his cockhead. Yuuri was wet, salty and wet just like Viktor wanted him to be, and he swirled his tongue around the tip to make sure he swept up every last bead of precum. 

Yuuri’s hips tipped forward as his fingers squeezed against Viktor’s scalp. Viktor took him all the way back in his throat, making his eyes sting. But he loved this, loved the taste of Yuuri and the smell of him and the flinching clench of his hand in his hair, loved it  _ all _ . Yuuri's hips bucked into Viktor's throat and Viktor was forced breathless, airway blocked. Viktor groaned around Yuuri’s cock, his own surging and dripping where it remained untouched. 

The truth was, Viktor wanted to drown in Yuuri. He wanted every pore and crevice and follicle to be saturated and submerged in him. He wanted to take him into his lungs and  _ breathe  _ him, to suffocate with how wholly and completely he'd been engulfed by him. Viktor was an addict, for the soft smiles and the skewed glasses, for the gorgeous limbs and impromptu flips, and for the hard stare and rough bite of teeth. There was so much, always so much, and Viktor always wanted to see and discover more. 

So he devoured him. Constantly, always. 

"Ah," Yuuri chirped, almost as if taken by surprise. Then he exhaled, fingers curling suddenly tighter in Viktor's hair, and pulled Viktor's mouth away from his cock. 

Viktor looked up at him, vision blurry. He couldn’t fit words around his desire, but the best word he had was probably, ‘ _ More’ _ .  

Yuuri gave him half a blank look before pushing down against Viktor's back. Viktor fell forward, literally hitting the end of his rope. His breath left him in a short gust, partially from the jolt against the rope, partially from surprise. The hook in the doorway creaked at the sudden bounce of weight and Viktor’s gaze was reaquainted with the futon. 

A wrapper tore. The sound was so heavily linked with sex that Viktor bit into his lip, willing the jumpiness in his stomach to remain hidden. Then the  _ click _ again, and the quick sound of a slippery hand working lube over latex. 

Viktor kept his eyes downcast. He did his best not to say anything, or to react in any way. He just wanted to be  _ taken _ , to be used, to  _ feel _ . Yuuri put a hand on either of Viktor’s cheeks, spreading them. The air was cool against his entrance, and at the coercion of Yuuri’s hands it was taut and bared. 

Sensation fit against Viktor’s rim, and Viktor heard the loose tip of the condom collapse against his body. The press was slick and cool, and Viktor flinched involuntarily. He still relaxed immediately, exhaling long and heavy breaths. He was just at the end of an inhale when Yuuri began to push into him, knocking the air right back out of his lungs. His rim opened up pliable and easy around Yuuri’s head, taking in the rounded intrusion without issue. The stretch was harder around Yuuri’s shaft, and it felt so  _ good _ . The staunch girth of it dragged hot friction through his rim as the length mounted pressure throughout his insides. 

Viktor groaned. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the deep noises from rasping out of his chest. Yuuri shoved the air out of his lungs with every new inch of him. His blood caught fire and burned away all the oxygen. He was so filling, so  _ good _ , so exactly everything that Viktor needed in that exact moment. 

Viktor was already shaking, but it wasn’t from the sheer intrusion of it; he was overloaded with sensation, rocketing right back toward that peak on the sensation of stretching around Yuuri alone. 

“ _ Aah _ ,” he huffed, head bobbing forward. He was so full and Yuuri was  _ right there _ , so very near his prostate, so wonderfully thick inside him. Yuuri pulled out slow, slow,  _ slow _ , making Viktor taste every single centimeter once more. The precum dripping from Viktor’s cock was  _ ruthless _ now. Viktor couldn’t say anything, couldn’t think anything but  **_more_ ** . Yuuri snapped his hips forward, hard. 

The instant pang of pleasure made Viktor shout. He almost came compulsively. He was a single writhing muscle around Katsuki Yuuri’s cock and every single movement felt like nirvana. 

Yuuri withdrew, then  _ snap _ forward of the hips again. Their bodies slapped together. Withdraw,  _ thrust _ , and the pace increased breathlessly fast. Viktor was already going unfocused and hazy, his untouched cock pulsating painfully between his legs. His toes were full of static. His fingers probably were too if he were coherent enough to make proper observations. But he could taste his orgasm, and as much as he wanted Yuuri to come with him he  _ couldn’t _ , he couldn’t hold back when this had already been taken from him, and he didn’t think he could stop the incessant waterfall of sensation from crushing him anyway. 

Yuuri pounded into him, rocking forward with steady sweeps of his hips, and it only took one itching glance against Viktor’s prostate before he was coming in thick spurting streams onto the comforter. 

“ _ Yuuri _ ,” strained whispers left him, cascaded from him. He was flailing, or trying to, body held tight under ropes and in Yuuri’s grasp. He could do nothing but let his cock pulse uncontrolled, untouched, and groan into the air. He dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands as his rim clenched hard around Yuuri’s cock, throbbing from orgasm. 

“Yuuri,” he breathed again. But Yuuri wasn’t stopping. In fact, Yuuri wasn’t slowing down at all. Viktor’s body was beginning to sink into aftershock territory. He was becoming increasingly sensitive with every thrust. 

“ _ Yuuri, _ ” he tried again. The once orderly burns and sweep of sensation were going chaotic. Every motion cracked through his body like lightning, forking in impossible directions and seizing his limbs. “ _ Yuuri please… _ ” 

Yuuri ground against Viktor’s prostate with his next thrust. Viktor’s voice was shorn apart as he moaned, raspy and broken without words. He wanted to crawl from his skin. His arms attempted movement in the binds but they didn’t yield. 

“ _ God _ ,” Viktor rasped. He was overstimulated. He shook his head, groaned, lightly kicked his bound feet. The world spun in smudged shapes and bright blotches again. All the air was emptying from his skull. It was as if the space inside him was infinite, infinite conductive material to be blown into explosive sparks and heat by Yuuri’s cock.

He couldn’t. He needed to scream and claw and bite. He was bucking hard in his ropes. Yuuri started targeting Viktor’s prostate again and Viktor lost functionality. He was a collection of shrieking nerves and raw need. “ _ Please Yuuri _ ,” and on Yuuri’s name his voice broke into a sob. “ _ Come inside me _ .”

Viktor wasn’t collected enough to realize he shouldn’t ask. 

Yuuri reached around with one hand-- hips still grinding into Viktor, undulating and jerking hard into Viktor-- and wrapped it around his cock. 

“No,” Yuuri said. 

Viktor’s moan rattled the walls. His cock, an absolute mess and entirely untouched, burned beneath Yuuri’s touch. Yuuri stroked over him in steady, even jerks of his hand. Cum made Yuuri’s motions unthinkably smooth, the noises loud and wet. Even though he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin, even though he couldn’t center his world or his thoughts any longer, pleasure spiked in Viktor’s thighs. 

“ _ Don’t stop _ ,” he begged. He wasn’t sure which language he landed on. His words were whimpers, soft and pleading,  _ “Please don’t stop _ .” Yuuri’s hand sped up, pumping over him hard and fast. Then, in a dizzying rush, Viktor came again. 

This one was wilder, longer, and Viktor’s spine curved and snapped straight within the confines of the ropes. 

It took him forever to come down from it. He kept sparking back into new jolts of pleasure, riding those waves of orgasm over and over. Then the oversensitivity came back, intense and sudden, and he thrashed hard to get away from the sensation. This time Yuuri actually slowed, withdrawing from Viktor when his voice started to break apart again. 

Viktor panted, body heavy against the grid of ropes. But his Yuuri… he still hadn’t…

Latex crinkled as it was unrolled from Yuuri’s cock. Viktor could hear it behind him, even if it did take an embarrassing amount of time to assign the sounds to function. Shadows clipped Viktor’s vision, and when he lifted his eyes Yuuri was standing above him. He lifted Viktor’s ropes again, propping Viktor unsteadily back on his knees. 

Yuuri gently tilted Viktor’s chin upward with his thumb. Viktor was still dizzy, his vision still fogged, but he knew. He opened his mouth. 

Yuuri pressed his cockhead to Viktor’s displayed tongue. Viktor sank onto him, taking him in the most wet and pliant way he could. He was going numb, body shocked into quiet, but he was glad for this, because he got to watch Yuuri’s face. 

The role was already gone. Yuuri looked down at Viktor with warm, glassy eyes, and stroked at his jaw. Viktor hummed and Yuuri gasped, hips bucking between his lips. He undulated, fucked gentle and deep into Viktor’s throat. His breathing came in stuttering little gasps, his hand trembling and knotting in Viktor’s hair. “ _ Viktor _ ,” he whispered. 

Viktor sucked against him, pulling blood and sensation to Yuuri’s cockhead. 

Yuuri’s head tipped back as he groaned, hips rocking deeper and more fully into Viktor’s throat. 

“ _ Vi-Vi-- _ ”

Viktor swirled his tongue around Yuuri before sucking hard again, and Yuuri’s voice and face broke as he moaned Viktor’s name. 

He came in hot, salty bursts. His voice cracked, showcasing all the raw sentiment he’d worked to seal away. Viktor swallowed him down, throat and body and mind languid from being so perfectly spent. 

Yuuri’s hand slowly loosened its grip in Viktor’s hair, and once free of the tangle he sighed, shoulders heaving hard. Viktor’s head bobbed forward a bit, fatigue washing over him now that the endorphins and adrenaline were dissipating. 

Yuuri’s first line of business was unhooking Viktor from the door, which he did before even bothering to put his cock back in his pants. Viktor wilted to the futon gratefully. 

Yuuri quickly padded away, returning immediately with his cock securely tucked away and his glasses once again adorning his nose. He knelt into the blankets, hands working quickly and succinctly through the ropes. Viktors arms were released first. He sighed like he was experiencing a new freedom. 

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked him. His voice had that waver to it-- that waver that the Yuuri of Ten Minutes Ago would have never had. 

“Mm,” Viktor hummed positively. 

Yuuri’s hands were so warm against him, but not in an unwelcome way. Viktor wanted to curl fully and entirely onto his lap. 

“You did a really good job,” Yuuri complimented, as if he was talking about new dish Viktor had made. 

Viktor’s mouth curved upward against the futon, “So did you.” 

Viktor couldn’t see it, but he was convinced he could feel the warmth of the blush that spread over Yuuri’s cheeks. 

“Okay, okay,” Yuuri was saying, seemingly to himself. Viktor’s body was being freed, ropes falling away and allowing him to take in large lungfuls of air. “Come on,” Yuuri continued, not even allowing Viktor a minute to bask in his new lung capacity. “Let’s take a shower.”

Viktor frowned, burying his face in Yuuri’s lap, “No.”

“O… kay?” Yuuri started petting through Viktor’s hair. “What would you like?”

“This,” Viktor mumbled into Yuuri’s thighs. 

“Mm, okay,” Yuuri said, but he was shifting. “But let’s move to the bed, alright?”

Viktor was frowning, but he yielded, “Okay.” 

Yuuri essentially carried him to the bed, his capacity for weight and movement much better than Viktor at the moment. Once under the covers Viktor crawled into Yuuri’s lap, nestling his shoulders against Yuuri’s chest. 

Yuuri’s fingers returned to Viktor’s hair, sliding through the silver locks, “This good?”

“Yes,” Viktor responded happily. Everything was so warm. 

“But after this you’re taking a shower.”

“ _ Fine _ .” 

Yuuri dropped a kiss on the juncture of Viktor’s shoulder, “You have some light marks, but they should fade by morning.”

“ _ Aww _ ,” Viktor cooed. “But I love being marked by you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Yuuri said, pressing another tender kiss to skin indented by rope. His fingers were still working over Viktor’s scalp and dragging gentle trails down his neck. “You were amazing…” he spoke into Viktor’s skin. 

Viktor drank in the soft touches. They made him shiver, and he curled even closer to Yuuri. 

“I want to watch something!” Viktor declared. 

“Okay. What?”

“That K-Drama!” Viktor tossed a blithe smile over his shoulder. 

“Aah…” Yuuri was slapping around the comforter in an attempt to locate the remote. “Coffee Prince?” 

“Yes!” 

Yuuri chuckled, “Okay… how about this.” He set the remote in Viktor’s lap and pulled out his phone, “You start the show and I order the pizza.” 

“Deal,” Viktor agreed, snatching it up immediately. “I want seven kinds of meat on the pizza.”

“Isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“You know,” Viktor said, ignoring Yuuri entirely. “I’m genuinely relieved I didn’t have to use my safeword tonight.”

“Me too…” Yuuri said, but his voice was low and tinged with worry. 

“I’m all for pleasure-torture,” Viktor went on, “but having that song stuck in my head-- especially during sex-- that’s torture-torture.”

A laugh huffed hard and sudden from Yuuri’s chest. 

“I can’t believe you ran the risk of me humming King JJ’s Theme while you were tying me up.”

Yuuri was laughing behind Viktor, burying his face in his shoulder, “Certainly… I guess that’s true…” he lifted his face, “But it could have been worse. I considered--” he shifted beside Viktor so he could look at him fully, then whipped out his thumbs and forefingers, “‘It’s  _ JJ Style! _ ” 

“Oh  _ God _ ,” Viktor groaned, covering his face. He dropped his hands again, “But that’s no good, right? I was tied up, and you can’t even say the phrase without compulsively doing the hand motions.”

Viktor and Yuuri stared at each other, and then in unison, “Iiiit’s  _ JJ style! _ ” And snapped their fingers into matching J’s. 

Yuuri wheezed in laughter. “See!?” Viktor implored. “That would be a horrible choice for a bondage safeword.” 

Yuuri took off his glasses and wiped at the tears clinging to the corner of his eyes, “Please never tell JJ we talk about him in bed.”

“JJ who?” Viktor asked, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders. “I don’t even know who that is.” 

“Maybe we should pick another safeword,” Yuuri said, reaching back for his phone. 

Viktor whisper sang into his ear, “ _ I’m the king JJ, no one defeats me-- _ ”

“OKAY.”

“--  _ this is who I am baby-- _ ”

“NEVER AGAIN.”

 

 

 

 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> <http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/>


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